Through The Maze
by Gwen.writes
Summary: When Percy came back from the war against Gaea, he didn't expected the world to be so freaking chaotic. More changes happened in his long-time sleep than he thought. Full summary inside. - Rated T for minor swearing. English is my second language.
1. CHAPTER ONE

**AUTHORS NOTE**

 **Ok** **ay, Guys, just so you know, I'm actually German, so in this story might be some mistakes. Please tell me there they are, when you found one. I write English 'cause I've read the Maze Runner Trilogy in English and 'cause it's fun. Thanks!**

-•-

 _When Percy came back from the war against Gaea, he didn't expected the world to be so freaking chaotic. More changes happened in his long-time sleep than he thought._

 _But what he definitely not wanted was another adventure - but that was what he got. A wannabe good man organization decided to throw him into a huge maze just for fun - until he understood what's the suppose of WICKED._

 _The Gladers have to find the escape quickly and their only hope is a scared newbie and a psycho girl who had a 'special gift'. But Percy started to accept the arrival of the only boy who had the chance to save his whole friendship and family but didn't remember anything._

 _Will they find an escape? How? What happens then the Maze Runner World meets the Demigod World?_

-•-

He looked into her gray eyes. They were beautiful, his favourite color.

When he was younger, his favourite color had been blue, the same shade his mother used, when she made blue cookies. But when he turned fourteen, he started to think different. Now, with seventeen, he thought the stormy gray of her eyes was the color of pure beauty.

He wrapped his arms around her trim body. Immediately she closed her eyes and leaned in. He stifled a laugh and kissed her. The kiss was sweet und slow, her lips were soft und tasted like strawberries.

The dark haired boy was surprised. He didn't expected his girlfriend to use the lip gloss the Aphrodite cabin made of the camp strawberries.

"You used the strawberry lip gloss from Pipes, don't you," he breathed into her ear.

She shivered as his cold breath tickled her skin. Using her golden curls to cover her reddening face, she pulled him closer.

"Well, do you like it," she whispered.

He held her away from his body. Brushing her gorgeous curls out of her face, he said, "I love it." She raised an eyebrow. "But I love you more," he added grinning.

She smiled at him, loving him for being the complet idiot he was. He leaned forward again und kissed her soft cheek and lips. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of this handsome boy being near her.

"I'll miss you, you know that," he said.

"I'd be disappointed if you'll not. IM me, will you?"

"Of course," he smiled. "You know what?"

"What," she asked.

"Despite everything we've been through nothing could be worse," he said. "So everything is going to become better."

"I hope so," she said. She hesitated, but closed her mouth. She wasn't going to share her doubts with him. It was bad enough, that she couldn't hope for some peace after the last months.

She wrapped her arms around his torso and leaned into his chest, feeling his calm heartbeat and the constant up and down of his chest, when he breathed.

They looked over the hills where Camp Half-Blood lied down in the valley in the sunup. The greek buildings shone like pure silver when the light met the marble. The big green bonfire flickered when the goddess Hestia poked it with her hands. Waves from the Long Island Sound crashed at the white beach of the camp. The big baby blue house where Chiron, the centaur, rested, was quiet and empty. Several demigods who'll rest the whole year here made their way to the pavilion for breakfast.

It was peaceful.

"I love you Percy," the blond girl said.

Percy smiled. "I love you too, Annabeth."

-•-

Percy exited the train from Long Island and looked around. He hadn't been in New York for a while, in fact he had been busy with trying to survive in the war against the Giants and Gaia. He flinched when he thought back at these days just one or two weeks before.

It hadn't helped his mind that the weeks before he had been in the deepest shit hole that any mythological creature could think of. The first days that passed on the Argo II after Tartarus he wouldn't sleep, because he was afraid to have nightmares. But with the help of Annabeth, his friends, tons of coffee and a always sleepy son of the dream god, named Clovis, he had survived the last days.

New York was different, busy, but not quiet so busy like it had been after the second titan war. After that war every New Yorker had waked up in the middle of city without any memory of the week before. They had been lost, confused and flustered, going after every clue they could grab.

But now, the New Yorker seemed frightened. Nobody stopped to talk with strangers, they hurried to get wherever they go, the lines before the cafés were short and the people stiffly. A onerous silence rested over the city, dust floated through the streets. People covered their heads with sheets or other clothings, as if they could become ill when they just let the sun touch their skin. Red dressed people ran through the crowds, randomly picking people out and setting mechanical things on their eyes. The people who got the things on their eyes stumbled a little after the process.

Percy wasn't just suspicious, he was completely and utterly confused. What happened to his city in those few months? He walked out of the station only to be stopped by a red-shirt-man.

"Stop," Red Shirt said and held out a hand. "You have to be checked when you want walking around in this city." He pointed at the mechanical thing that hung from his waist.

That was the moment when Percy realized that behind the man were doors to another room, and locked doors again, and everything he had seen from his city had been on screens. His heart pounded in his chest. What was going on?

"What," Percy asked, trying to take these new surroundings in.

Red Shirt rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, that's nothing to joke about. It's my job to make sure, that you aren't going to bring the Flare into this city."

Percy doesn't understand one word. What the hell was the Flare? Why would he bring it into the city, when it was bad? And what means 'checked'?

Despite the fact that Red Shirt was speaking about complete shit, Percy realized that this man wasn't a monster. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, where he had unknowingly gripped his pen sword.

Percy didn't know what was going on, but the only useful thought he had, was that he had to reach his mother and Paul. They could possibly tell him what's up with New York and Red Shirt and 'the Flare', whatever that means. This was the moment when he started to miss his Wise Girl very badly.

"Okay," Percy shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal to let some strange, red dressed man check him with a gadgetry that seems to blind people.

Red Shirt narrowed his eyes as he untangled the machinery from his belt. "You didn't seem scared of the Flare," he said.

I don't even know what that is, Percy thought. Instead he said, "Fear doesn't help anyone."

"You're right," the man said. "But aren't you just a little bit afraid that you can die?"

"As if that would be the first time, that could happen," Percy muttered under his breath.

Red Shirt sent him a curious glance but didn't say anything. He pushed some buttons on the thing in his hands, opened some straps and sat it on Percys eyes.

Percy didn't even hesitated when he saw colorful lights flashing before his eyes and seeming to cross his mind. His thoughts swirled. He spun around and wanted to uphold himself with something, wanted to yank the thing from his head, but Red Shirt held him back. He wrapped his arms around his waist and Percy wasn't sure if he really heard a whistle from him.

The lights started to disappear and the torture weakened. Percys fingers trembled. Read Shirt tore the strange torture hat from his head and started writing something on a paper.

"First time in a check," he asked casually. Percy nodded, not thrilled of this process. "Well, you are lucky, kid," Red Shirt said. "You are immune. Why are you here?"

"To visit my mom and stepfather," Percy said and glanced again on the screens. Now he understand the reaction of the people who were checked.

"What's your name," Red Shirt spoke again.

"Percy Jackson," he said, before he could stop himself. How stupid from him to call his real name.

"Percy Jackson, ah," Red Shirt said and looked up. "Sounds British."

"I'm American," Percy said through gritted teath. "My dad is Greek."

"Where are you coming from," Red Shirt asked.

"From a visit to my dad," Percy said tentatively. "He lives in Athens."

"How long do you want to stay?"

Percy shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe just a few days and I'm gone again. Probably I visit my girlfriend in San Francisco soon. She was with me in Greece."

"Oh," Red Shirt said, narrowing his eyes. Percy scolded himself for telling this stranger so much.

"Yeah," Percy said stiffly. Red Shirt watched him a second, then turned his attention to the paper, again.

"Okay, I think you are going to be okay in the city," Red Shirt said. "But, just an advice, don't tell the people about your immunity to the Flare. They don't like us Munies, understandably." He winked, then pushed a button on a zapper and the first door opened. Red Shirt handed him the paper, but thanks to his dyslexia he couldn't read a word.

Percy nodded and walked in the room. In the middle of the chamber stood a wooden table. After closing the doors behind him, a female voice spoke to him. It didn't come from a person, or at least no person he could see.

"Name," the voice demanded.

Percy hesitated a moment, then said, "Percy Jackson."

"Are you checked?"

"Yes."

"What's the result," the voice continued.

"I'm immune," Percy said.

"No," the woman sounded annoyed. "Lay the paper down on the table."

"Oh," Percy said and did what he was told to. He stood awkwardly for some minutes, then the voice continued.

"You're fine. Please left the paper on the table. We hope you enjoy your stay in New York."


	2. CHAPTER TWO

The doors before him opened and Percy squinted his eyes when the light of the sun met his face. Instantly after the doors opening, normal, familiar noises reached his mind. Hoots of cars, peoples voices speaking into their cellphones and shooting curious glances in his direction and a few birds. Constantly a phone ring was heard.

Percy smiled. It wasn't that bad. Sure, he still saw the red dressed men pushing through the crowds and everybody had covered his head, but with all the noises around him he could still think about this city as his city.

He looked around and saw some people watching him through narrowed eyes. They were dressed in black leather jackets, jeans and dirty shirts. They looked like the local gang. Percy wasn't afraid of them, he was afraid that they didn't do something like bullying, smoking or chatting. They hadn't covered their heads, but they still didn't seem to feel confident in the sun.

Percy tore his eyes away from them and whistled for a taxi. The banana yellow cab stopped with an twangy squeak and opened his doors for him.

"Mornin' Sir," the driver said. "Where am I supposed to bring you?"

"Corner East 86th Street and Park Ave, Upper East Side," Percy said absently.

He watched as the cab passed the high buildings and the scared people. Everything here was wrong. They just had saved the world from Gaea, but the humans seemed more afraid than ever from this Flare thing.

The Flare has to be the name for an illness, he thought. An illness that let people die and has no cure. I was checked that I don't bring this illness in the city.

Apparently there are Munies, people who are immune to the Flare. And he was one. Maybe he was, because he was a demigod? But that means his mom and Paul were in great danger. His urge to come home increased.

Not many cars were on the streets, but that means nothing in New York. There are still enough to jam the streets. Thanks to the driver, Percy just needed a little more than an hour to cross the whole island Manhattan.

The demigod payed and made his way to the apartment where his mother and stepfather lived. Or at least lived when he was the last time in Manhattan. And that was eight months ago.

He was understandably relieved when he saw the little sign next to the bell where the name Jackson-Blofis was written on. He pushed the button and waited. A little buzz told him that the door could be opened and he walked upstairs.

The worries about this Flare illness vanished when he realised that he really would see his mom again. His sweet, caring mom with her brown curls and this blue eyes in the same shade, she used when she made blue cookies. His favourite color when he was younger. He smiled at the thought of her and reached the fifth floor.

His mother stood in the doorframe and stared a moment at him. Her blue eyes were tired but they lit up when she caught sight of him. Her mouth opened shocked, but she didn't say a word. She wore a lavender colored, fluffy bathrobe and the blue slippers from Percy. Sally had always made jokes about it that Percy had bigger feet than her but was her little boy.

"Percy," she said incredulous. Her eyes were wide with excitement, but also fearful if Percy wasn't her little boy anymore. He wasn't, he wasn't since he lost his hopes for some peace, but in another way he would always be her son, her demigod son who fights monsters the whole time.

"Hey mom," he smiled nervously.

They stared a few seconds longer at each other, but then Sally charged, Percy did the same. They met in the hallway, their arms flew around each other. Silent tears ran down Sallys cheeks and Percy could barely hold a sob.

"I knew that you'd come back," the older woman whispered in her son's ear. He squeezed her tighter in response.

"Okay," Sally said and held her son a little bit away from her.

She surveyed the teenager in front of her. He was at least ten centimeters taller than before, his skin was more tanned, his hair was a little bit longer and messier and his body slightly more muscular. His eyes were the same bright green she had always loved on Poseidon, but they held a sadness that Sally couldn't imagine on Percy before. He had been a funny, sarcastic, brave, sweet, loyal and nice boy who you either hate or love - and hating him wasn't easy, that knew Sally for sure from Annabeth.

She smiled. "Come in, you can have some blue cookies." His mood instantly lit up und he entered the apartment.

Sally walked to the bedroom where Paul still slept. The day before he had been at work a little longer than planned. Their family car, the blue, beaten up Prius, was currently in the workshop, because the engine wouldn't start, so he had to take the taxicab in the morning. But after eight in the evening no cars drive around in the city anymore, so he had to walk the thirty minutes ride from his work to their apartment.

Percy searched the box with cookies in the cupboards, only to find cereals, Paul's yogurt in the fridge, some pots and pans and fresh bread. He frowned and looked around in the kitchen. His eyes fell on a red bowl with Christmas patterns on the sides. There are christmas trees, presents, reindeers and baubles.

But what he really found interesting were the luminous blue cookies in the bowl. He smiled, reached out and bite into the delicious food his mother made.

Paul walked into the kitchen. He wore a dark blue bathrobe, his slippers and had deep bags under his eyes. He headed straight to the coffee. Sally followed him right at the heels. Percy watched him uncomfortably with his mouth full of cookie, how he turned back to him, the full coffeepot in his hands.

"Hey Percy," he said sleepily and drank a sip. Then his eyes went wide. Sally watched him expectantly. "Percy," he spluttered out. Fortunately he had swallowed the coffee down before.

"Hey," Percy waved a little and swallowed his cookie.

"You - you - here - when did you," Paul stared at him like at an alien.

"Oh, just five minutes ago," Percy said and shrugged. He gripped a second cookie.

"But - but - I didn't hear you -"

"Well, you've slept," Percy said. "Apparently you've got a deep sleep." He thought for a second. "Or a cool dream. I mean, it's not like I had one in the last time, but still . . ."

"Come on, Paul, Percy," Sally said excited and waved them into the living room. "Story time."

"Oh, good," Percy said. He grabbed the cookie bowl and sat down in a big red armchair. "Well, what's up with that Flare thing? This Red Shirt man checked me in the station and everybody wears bed sheets on their heads."

Sally and Paul glanced nervously at each other. "Um . . . so you haven't heard about it?" Paul asked hesitantly.

"Heard about what?" Percy asked curiously. He narrowed his eyes as nobody of them would look at him.

"So . . ." Sally clapped her hands and forced a smile. "What happens since . . . um, December?"

Percy frowned. He wanted to know about the Flare, but apparently they wouldn't talk about it. Since he was here just for ten minutes, he decided to take the first step.

"Well, first there was Hera. She wanted me for her exchange program between Greeks and Romans, so she wiped my memory, let me sleep for at least six months before she said I had to go on a quest to Alaska with my new friends Hazel and Frank. We finished the quest and then Annabeth, her new friends Piper and Leo and Jason, the Roman who had taken my place in Camp Half-Blood appeared over the Roman Camp with a huge, flying war ship."

Paul and Sally stared at him, probably because he didn't let the effort of doing all this shone through. Percy shrugged it off and took another cookie. He didn't want them to worry that much about him, that'd just make more stress for them.

"So then the four, Hazel, Frank and I flew to Greece and stopped at several places to fight some monsters or giants or gods or something, like Rome or the House of Hades in Epirus. After that we went to Athens, where we had some little war against the giants, were thrown back to Camp Half-Blood where we had this big war against Gaea. We won, left Camp and here I am."

It was silent for a minute, Paul and Sally seemed to be stunned. He could just hope that they never heard of the Tartarus thing. "So," Percy waved at them. "Your turn. What's the Flare?"


	3. CHAPTER THREE

The stun vanished and fear filled the room. Sally looked tired again and Paul stared at the ground, his coffee hung forgotten in his hands.

"It's . . . an illness," Sally said finally. "It transmit over the air and they don't have a cure. It let people go crazy, they call them Cranks. The Cranks were disembarked of the cities to Crank Palaces or towns full of them in desert."

He waited. That was some new information and the demigod understood why the people are so frightened. But still, that couldn't be everything.

"It . . . it happened long, long ago, but the government didn't say a word," Paul continued. "It was like a super mega power beam from the sun that converted half of the world into a horror desert. There are temperatures . . . okay, but with that happening somehow a new illness, called the Flare, entered the world. It seemed to destroy parts of the brain and makes you crazy - no, inhuman."

"So, that's why they check every person in the city," Percy said thoughtfully and dangled the cookie in his hands. "But Red Shirt said, I'm immune."

"Oh, thank the gods," Sally blurted out. Her cheeks reddened a little, as Percy looked confused at her.

Paul stroked her back and hair and smiled. "I told you," he said. "He'll be fine. Maybe it's because you're a demigod?"

He turned to Percy, but the son of Poseidon didn't reply. Fear bounded his chest and he struggled to breath. "Aren't . . . aren't you immune," he asked his parents, shock laced in his voice.

"No," Paul said softly. "But we're going to be fine. It's okay, Percy. Breath."

But the boy couldn't. He couldn't lose anybody anymore, not his friends, not his family, nobody. After two wars to keep the world save, Bob's bloody sacrifice to help the demigods, the freaking sun decided to burn half the world and make the population going nuts. Why can't he just have one year of peace? He should have known.

"Percy, they're trying to make a cure! Chiron told me about it."

His mother's voice reached his ears and he realized that his palms were trembling and abnormal pale. He took a deep, shivering breath and focused his eyes on his mom.

"Does it work?" He asked, not really knowing if he wanted to hear the answer. Why hadn't Chiron told them, that were was these Flare illness? Oh right, they barely talked since his return. Afterwards he felt really stupid for avoiding his old mentor.

"Not yet," she said and looked at him concerned. "But it's okay, Percy. You're going to be fine. Annabeth is probably going to be fine. It's okay."

Annabeth. The name made his dread increasing and it felt like a staggering punch in the gut for him. He hadn't thought about her being in danger. He had believed when he was immune, she was too. But if she wasn't? No, he thought fiercly. She's going to be fine. Mom and Paul are going to be fine. The seven and all his other friends were going to be fine.

"They're confident that they'll make it," Paul said. "Okay, Percy? Don't think about it any more."

Percy nodded, his thoughts swirling and his vision blurring. He stood up and the bowl fell down to the ground. It broke with a loud Crack! Percy stumbled away from the shards, watching his mother pick up the porcelain.

"I . . . I have to . . . call Annabeth," he stuttered and ran into his room. He didn't even have to look around in his room for a drachma, he instantly saw the little mound of the old golden coins on his bed. He grabbed two. The demigod stormed into the bathroom and let water flow down into the sink. The noon sun shone through the window and created a little rainbow in the sink.

Percy threw one coin into the rainbow and let the other one slide into his pocket. "O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, please accept my offer and show me Annabeth Chase in the airplane to San Francisco."

It was a high risk, but Percy wouldn't wait till Annabeth was supposed to arrive in the airport. The familiar golden curls appeared in the sink and puffy, bloodshoot gray eyes followed. Annabeth hugged her knees and stared at him. She didn't say a word.

"No," Percy whispered. His heart slowed its beat and his gut clenched. He heard a faint grunt behind him, from the direction of the toilet.

"I," Annabeth sobbed. "I'm immune."

Tears of joy found their way Percys face down. "Why . . . Why are you crying?"

"My dad called," she answered dull. "My family isn't."

"Same here," he said.

Annabeth looked even more scared if that was possible. Percys family, especially Sally, had grown to her in his absence. She saw her real mother figure in Sally. "You immune," she asked hopefully. Percy nodded and she exhaled relieved.

"It's just not fair," she said irritating sad. He imagined her full of rage. She was always the one more vivacious. But then again, if he had learned something about Annabeth during their relationship, then that under her hard, feisty cover laid a vulnerable person. "It's . . . frustrating, I guess."

"I know, Annabeth, I know." He dropped his gaze for a moment and stared at the ground. If he hadn't seen the lost souls in Tartarus, he would've been furious at the fates, but now he knew what hopelessness was like. It was the empty feeling inside his chest, the white nothingness when he tried to think of a solution, the ingratiating fear to quit. Hopelessness was destructive.

"What should we do," he asked finally, trying to sound hopeful.

She looked more upset and he instantly regretted his attempt to cheer them up. "We cannot do anything," she said. "It's a disease - beyond our acting zone."

"The only help there would be Apollo," Percy said. She nodded. Then her eyes widened. "You don't think . . ."

Percy held up his second drachma and grinned. "It's worth a try. I love you."

A little smile crept onto her face. "I love you too. Now hurry!"

Percy nodded and slashed through the Iris Message. Annabeths beautiful face dissolved into gray mist and subtle steam. Before he could start the process, someone knocked on the outside of the bathroom door. "Percy?" He heard his mother ask.

The demigod opened the door and saw the concerned face of his mother in front of him. She wore now normal clothes and a jacket, Paul did the same and just donned his shoes.

"Is everything alright?" Sally asked. "How's Annabeth?"

"She's immune," Percy said and showed a small smile. "I was going to call Apollo to ask if there is help against the Flare."

"I told you," she said and embraced him tightly. Months before he would have been embarrassed by this, but now he enjoyed it after missing her for so long. "Where are you going?" He asked finally.

Sally pulled away and smiled brightly at him. "We're going to go shopping in downtown. We'll be back at twelve, but maybe you want to stroll a little bit through the city."

"Maybe," Percy agreed. Sally nodded. After her and Paul leaving, the demigod returned to the sink where the rainbow was still there. Hoping he didn't have to tell the place to reach the god, he throw the second coin into the rainbow and called Apollo.

The figure that appeared wasn't the one he expected. Apollo didn't look like a model in trademark gear, he wore a full Greek armour and had numerous bleeding wounds. His whole face was covered in gold from his godly blood and his eyes held a unlikely, wicked and furious gleam. He didn't look like the perky all mighty young adult with the expensive cool sun chariot, he looked like a warrior who had seen various deaths et cetera. In fact, he looked a little bit like Percy when he was fighting for his friends.

"Apollo?" Percy called over the noisy background while the god slashed with a weapon (a bow made of celestial bronze whose bottoms got extremely sharp spires) at an invisible enemy. Not really believing that the gods fight a battle without the demigods, Percy wondered if he had called in their hour of training at godly base. But that looked terrible real.

Apollo looked at him for a second and flashed him a white-teeth-smile. "Percy! Good to see you. Always calling in the best moment, like me. You could've been my child, really."

"Is that Percy Jackson?" Another voice behind the Iris Message asked. It sounded like Artemis. "Not the best point, but at least somebody called."

"Oh, no, little sister," Apollo said. "He called not us, he called me. Mind your own business."

"Apollo!" Zeus boomed and a lightning bolt brightened the space next to the god. "Don't waste this chance! Speak to him, we give you a break."

"Really? He can take a break? When can I have a break? I saw a delicious rat lately in Denver." Someone said annoyed, a someone that sounded fairly like George, the snake from Hermes' Cadeceus.

"Shut up!" Hermes shouted and jumped into the screen. He held something forward and shoot lasers with it. As the thing he bombarded jumped forward to take the god with him, Percy saw it fully.

It was shaped like a human, but there stopped the similarity. The things had dead eyes, if they had really eyes. Some of them had missing eyeballs, no hair, no nose . . . others had deep holes in their body, especially where usually the hearts or stomachs lied, or lacked limbs, fingers or toes. Over their whole body was a net visible, arteries and veins stood out in an awful red and blue. Percy felt the urge to throw up but Hermes did a round house kick - about that Trainer Hedge would be proud - and the thing dissolved back into the darkness where no doubt others of him were.

"So, Percy, how are you?" Apollo asked him smiling, not caring about the circle of gods that enclosed him slowly. Percy saw Poseidon, his father, behind him sending waves and green lightnings out of nowhere into the darkness.

"Oh, I'm good," Percy said and tried to see some of this things again. "What about you?"

"A little stressful lately," Apollo said and wiped the blood out of his face. "You know, when Zeus sent me to Olympus after the war against the Giants, I had a vision, something Python let reach me from Delphi. Why he did that? Well, he is a huge snake and a monster, but after all he do want to live. And this vision he saw too, told him that the new enemy would not spare anything if he reached the earth."

"Wait," Percy stopped him. "Where are you?"

"Oh, where are we?" Apollo scrunched his face up in confusion. "I don't know, I'm the god of much things, but unfortunately not the god of astronomy. Athena, who is the god of astronomy?"

"Can we talk about this later?" An annoyed female voice forced out, as if trying not to attack the god of the sun.

"Whatever," Apollo shrugged. "Well, we are somewhere in the space. At first we were at the edge of our galaxy, I tell you why in a second. Now we are somewhere else."

Percys eyes widened. "You're . . . oh gods. What the Hades happened?"

Someone behind Apollo cursed loudly. It told the demigod that Hades was there too . . . wherever they exactly were currently. "Don't use my name for cussing!"

"Calm down, uncle," Apollo said smoothly (at this moment Percy could imagine him in the seventies very well). "So, kiddo, I'll start from the beginning. Some years ago this sun beam thingy happened, you know. At first we thought that was because I flew to near the earth with my chariot - even I believed that. I mean, I don't make mistakes but maybe I was just extremely hot on that day."

"Okay?" Percy said, not sure where this conversation would go.

"Yeah, that sounds plausible, I know," Apollo said and cleaned the bottoms of his bow. "And I was a little worried about my sister at this time. But after the war and with the vision we understood that there was another reason for the burns on the earth and the Flare disease. It was far advanced technology and a tactic from these guys." Apollo pointed with his thumbs into the darkness.

"The mortals who got the Flare become henchmen of them, you call them Cranks on the earth. But in real they're named something like this-" Apollo let out some strange noises just gods, monsters and Cranks could make. "So, with the term 'People who got the Flare become inhuman', you aren't exactly that far away from the truth. They become aliens."

"Aliens," Percy repeated, still not really believing.

"Yeah," Apollo said. "Crazy, I know. That tactic from the Cranks - they're not smart. Apparently they send some kind of bomb to occupied planets and contaminate the people. They bet on numbers, not wisdom. But the Cranks didn't expected us, all mighty gods and their children, to be immune to their disease. And they didn't expected the humanity to be so far sophisticated that their immune system could develop some resistance to the Flare."

"So there are people without godly blood who are really immune to the Flare?" Percy asked. "Is there a chance to make a cure or that anything could go back to normalcy?"

"Alas there aren't people who are fully immune to the Flare," Apollo said regretful and ruffled his hair. Naturally it went back to his normal position. "To be precise all mortals are immune to the Flare. Eventually everything could go back to normalcy, I guess. The heat and destruction from the bomb is going to become better."

"Apollo, hurry!" A beautiful voice shouted - Aphrodite.

Percy didn't care that Apollo hadn't really answered his last question - about immune people. There was one thing he had to ask. One thing that was the most important to him.

"Is there a place for us to be safe?"

Apollo looked nervously behind the IM but answered. "Yeah. Demigods are fully immune but in the camps the presence of the gods is enough to bar the Cranks. And mortals - well, that's more complicated. In the two states New York and California is our presence high too - you know, Romans, Hades, Othrys there and Olympus and Egyptians here. In this States nobody is infected. About the Norths in Boston - they aren't exactly safe, but people like this Magnus Chase are kinda super warriors and that means immune."

"So, if my parents stay in New York or California, they aren't infected?" Percy asked. "Like a cure?"

"No," Apollo said. "I mean, yeah, they're safe but it's no cure. If they're infected but in these States they cannot leave them when the ramifications of the bomb vanished. If they do that's starting another epidemic."

"Oh," Percy said disappointed. "But what's with these mortal immunes-"

"No! Attention, Apollo!" Aphrodite suddenly shouted both Percy and Apollo jumped. Percy saw Cranks coming nearer to Apollo through the barrier of gods. "No-" Apollo was cut off as a hand appeared in the message and it dissolved.

Percy sighed. He didn't expected the gods to have more time for him now and Annabeth probably had to leave the toilet for another person. That were a lot of new informations. He decided to take the walk his mother submitted.


	4. CHAPTER FOUR

As the hand gripped his wrist, Percy spun around and threw his fist out. His hand connected with the face of his attacker with an awful Crack! and the person stumbled backwards, holding her nose. She had probably a broken nose now. The woman glared at him.

But then two pairs of arms yanked Percy back, trying to make him motionless. He let himself fall to the ground, drawing the other two with him. Percy rolled to one side and heard a grunt from under him. Instantly he jumped up and turned to the other one.

The man wore white clothings, just like his two colleagues. On his belt hung a strange gadgetry, not the checking one from Red Shirt earlier this day, but kind of a pistol. The man followed his gaze and grinned evil, so Percy didn't thought it would do any good to him.

"Oh, this one?" The man asked and untangled the weapon from his belt. "You want this one? Okay. I'll give you this one." He unlocked the pistol and pointed at Percy with it. The tip crackled with electricity.

Percy heard shuffling around behind him and expected the other man standing up. The woman with the broken nose still winced in pain, but seemed to come closer.

"Jack no," the man from behind him said. "We aren't supposed to use the Launchers!"

"Oh yeah?" Jack asked. "Who said that? We are supposed to bring him to WICKED alive, we can use our own ways."

"Jack no," the man tried again.

"Go Jack!" The woman yelled with a strange accent through her broken nose. "Take him down!"

Jack wanted to pull the trigger, but Percy charged and tackled him to the ground. With a cry of surprise they fell down to the floor. The Launcher glided out of Jacks hands and Percy kicked him to the side.

"What do you want from me," he demanded.

Behind him he heard footsteps towards the Launcher and cursed himself. He didn't have a weapon against these mortals, just against monsters, and he kicked the only weapon away. That was totally his way of fighting.

"Please boy," the other man pleaded. So it had to be the woman who was running for the weapon. "You don't want to be shooted with a Launcher. Give up."

"Why should I?" Percy asked. "I didn't even know what you want from me."

"Go away, Jorge! I'm going to take him!" The woman shouted.

"I'm sorry, boy," Jorge said.

Before Percy could ask why he was sorry, he felt a strong fist connecting with his temple. His vision blurred, his grip on Jacks collar weakened and he drifted into the dark world of unconsciousness.

Percy woke up in a white room full of . . . well, nothing. There was a bed in which he laid. There was a door, but she has to be locked. He stood up and checked it regardless.

"Oh, the door? She is locked, of course," a boys voice said.

Percy turned around and saw a boy a little younger than him standing at the other end of the room and watching him. He had brown hair in the same hairstyle as Jason - a little longer to be cut short, but a little shorter to be messy like his. His eyes were big and brown, though his stand looked calm, his excitement was obvious. He wore light gray jeans and a white shirt, on which 'WICKED' stood in big letters.

Percy was confused. Was this boy really wicked? He had never met a monster or evil human that shows his character that clearly. They always tried to hide until they were near enough to attack. Then again, he was probably not alone here. On the other side, if he wanted to attack, he had done it when Percy was still asleep.

"Who are you?" Percy asked.

"Name's Thomas," he walked up to him and stretched out his hand. "And you must be Percy Jackson, right?"

"Do I have to be suspicious that you know my name?" Percy asked and shook his hand.

"Oh, yes, you know, I'm part of the most important organization in the world that is allowed to search data from every person in the world, so then you know that, you shouldn't be so surprised."

"Are you really wicked? 'Cause if you are, I have to defend myself." Percy pointed at Thomas's shirt.

Thomas looked surprised. "Wicked? No, WICKED is the name of my organization. I know, that sounds crazy, but WICKED is good."

"Uh what?" Percy asked. "You literally just said that evil is good."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Oh man. WICKED is the name of my organization, so that means, my organization is good."

"Oh-kay . . . but why are you using such a dumb name? I mean, what's with 'best organization in the world'? That sounds way more logical."

"WICKED has a meaning. It stands for 'World In Catastrophe - Killzone Experiment Department'." Thomas smiled.

"Killzone?" Percy tried to look not too confused.

Thomas frowned. "You don't like reading placards, do you?"

"Well, since I have dyslexia, the answer is no." Percy grinned.

"And you haven't heard about it? Really?"

"Dude, no. I was a little bit busy in Greece the last days."

"Oh, okay," Thomas said, looking confused. "Uh, why exactly have you been in Greece?"

"Family matters," Percy hedged and quickly changed the subject. "So what is the Killzone?"

Thomas watched him for a second, then he sat down on the ground. Percy hesitated, then followed. "The Killzone is the region in your brain where the Flare does it's damage," Thomas began. "WICKED was founded to find a cure for it."

Percys eyes snapped up and he stared at Thomas. "A cure? I thought there is no cure?"

Thomas shrugged. "The logical way is, there is always a cure. Like Cancer - you just have to search hard. So, some scientists had an idea and we're now studying the brains of the Munies."

"So I'm here for your study," Percy summarized.

"Kind of." Thomas shrugged again.

"And you are one of these scientists? You aren't older than me," Percy said incredulous.

"Yeah, you know, apparently I have a special gift that could help them," Thomas said smiling. "I'm fine with it, I do want to find a cure for the Flare."

"Okay," Percy said frowning. "And what exactly happens now? Are you scanning my brain with more strange machinery or something? Can I at least send a message to my mom and girlfriend? 'Cause, well, you know, I had been kidnapped and it's normal for them to be worried."

"Sorry," Thomas said. "But WICKED has to stay a secret until we found the cure. We don't want the whole population storm our headquarters."

"That's sounds really nice," Percy muttered under his breath.

"With the question, what happens know," Thomas continued. "Our scientists'll graft a computer chip into your brain that allows us to -"

"Ow," Percy said and shook his head. "No, no, no, I don't want that."

"You don't want to save the whole world?"

"Again? No thanks, that's not my problem anymore." Percy said sarcastically.

"What?"

"Nothing. Inside joke."

"Well . . ." Thomas looked slightly uncomfortable. "They graft a computer chip into your brain -" Percy shivered. "- that allows us to study your brain."

"I don't want that," Percy repeated. "I'm done with saving the world."

"Whatever, bro. But you don't exactly have a choice."

"You wanna force me?" The demigod raised an eyebrow. "You know that that isn't allowed after the laws."

"Yes?" Thomas looked surprised. Percy nodded. "Hmm . . . yeah, you're right but WICKED is allowed to do that because it's for the greater good. People in the whole world would look up to you as their hero."

Percy frowned. "Listen, Thomas, I think you're really cool, but what you're talking about isn't what I want. I don't want to be their hero. Why don't you do this? Aren't you immune?"

Thomas hesitated. "I'm immune, but I'm not designated for this."

"For what? You told me that you'd just get a computer chip in your brain." Percy smiled about Thomas uncertain face. He had gone into the trap.

"Well . . . there is something more you have to do," Thomas said. "You have to go through the trials with some other boys. Some are immune, some aren't. It's just so we can study your reactions."

"What are the trials?" Percy asked.

Thomas grinned. "Since we're going to wipe your memorys, I think I can tell you," he said. I hate memory wipes, Percy thought. "We aren't sure what the second and third trial'll be yet, but the first trial is to find an escape out of the Maze."

"The 'Maze'?" Percy asked incredulous. "Are you serious?"

"It's not as easy as you probably think of it now," Thomas said. "I've been one of the Creators of the Maze. It's pretty impressive."

"Oh-kay . . ." Percy trailed off.

Thomas looked down at his wrist where a wristwatch hung. "We have two minutes. When we'll wipe your memorys, so you just can remember your forename, and you'll be sent to the maze. Any last wishes?" He snickered.

"Tell my . . . tell my mom, she should stay. And Annabeth and her family should stay where they are," Percy said tentatively. "Wherever my father's family is they would be safe. I'll come back to them. Please, promise this to me."

Thomas looked surprised. He hadn't really expected such a last wish. Maybe something like 'let me go, please' or 'don't wipe my memories' or something. Not 'tell my family they should stay'.

"Uh . . . okay, sure, I promise," he stuttered.

Percy looked indefinitely relieved. "Thank you."

Thomas raised his eyebrows. "I'm really sorry for you," he said.

Percy snorted. "Yeah, right."

"Honestly," Thomas asserted. "You weren't supposed to be here. Originally a boy named Maximilian should go in the maze, but he had some illness - not the Flare - with that he had never survived there."

"Oh great," Percy said. "Just leave me alone, Thomas."

The brown haired boy sighed and left the room. Percy leaned back against the bed and closed his eyes, the exhaustion overwhelming him.


	5. CHAPTER FIVE

He woke up in cold air, surrounded by steely walls. His stomach turned upside down, as the tiny room started to get pulled upwards. Chains made of metal jangled outside the room.

I hate elevators, he thought.

Slowly he stood up and stretched his arms as much as he could. He didn't want to do anything, he knew what he was going to see. The Maze. He remembered the things Thomas had said to him, that the Maze was a trial, about the Flare, WICKED and that he wasn't supposed to be in the trials. He couldn't help but felt a little bit jealous of this Maximilian guy.

Percy stood in silence and leaned against the walls until he realized something: he remembered. His memorys weren't wiped away.

Shocked he glided down the wall. His heart pounded in his chest. Why did he remember everything? That wasn't supposed to happen. His thoughts swirled in his mind.

Then the box suddenly stopped he didn't even show any reaction. It was quiet for some minutes and Percy almost missed the awful sound of metal sliding against metal. The eerie silence was way worse.

Then somebody tugged doors two meters above him open. Blinding light entered the small elevator and black silhouettes looked down at him.

"How old is he?" someone asked.

"Seem to be another klunk," the next boy said.

"You're the klunk, shuck-face."

"Why is he wearing an orange t-shirt?"

"No idea," someone replied.

"Ugh, it stinks down there."

"Yeah, well, with you here it's not really better, bro."

"Hey you," someone called down. "Hope you're okay, we definitely need some other shanks here." Laughter sounded down to Percy.

Finally Percy shouted, "Shut up and help me out of that bloody hole, you idiot!" His head seemed to burst. He must've been at least half an hour in that elevator, his ears felt as if they were deaf and the unreality of this all crashed him down on the floor.

The group of boys above him instantly hushed when his words reached their ears.

"Whoa," someone finally said. "He said something."

"No shit, Sherlock," Percy said sarcastically. "Now, are you gonna help me out of here?"

Whispers sounded and they let an rope made of ivy down. In the end was a loop where he set his foot in. He clutched the rope and the boys started pulling him up.

When he reached the top he stepped out of the doors. Behind him the elevator closed. About forty boys stared at him, in front of them a blonde with a limp and a dark-skinned boy around his own age. Percy seemed to be one of the oldest boys here, like the dark boy and several other ones in the crowd.

Percy stood in a perfect square place, just a little bit smaller than Camp Half-Blood. The ground was made of big, gray, cracked stones, huge walls enclosed the square and had four, symmetrical arranged entrances to what Percy assumed must be the Maze. Beside the elevator there were other buildings like the wooden house where trees stood and clawed their roots into the stony ground.

In another part of the place were pens with cows, sheep and pigs. Gardens full with fruit trees, tomato plants and corn grew in the opposite side of the square. A pebbly building stood outside the ring of buildings and near a dark forest. It kind of reminded Percy of the forest in the camp, but here grew conifers and not the translucent broadleaves.

Percy looked at the boys in front of him again. They probably expected him to know nothing except his forename, like Thomas had said. He didn't know what had gone wrong, but he wasn't going to share this secret. What would he ask first, if he didn't know of anything?

"Where am I," he asked.

The dark-skinned boy snorted and some others snickered. "Welcome to the Glade," he said. "I'm Alby. And there's no way out of here."

"Yeah, right," Percy snorted. "As if . . ." He trailed off as the other boys looked suspicious and curious at the same time at him.

"Well . . ." Alby started. "Nice to meet you, Greenie."

"Don't call me that," Percy warned. "I'm the same age as you."

"How could you know," the limping kid said surprised. "Do you remember anything?"

"Yeah," Percy said. "My name's Percy."

"Oh wow," someone shouted out of the crowd. "Surprise, surprise, he know his forename." Some boys snickered.

"Shut your hole, Gally," Alby shouted back. "So, Greenie, why do you know how old you are?"

Percys palms started to sweat. "I . . . just a clue."

"Ah, mm . . ." Alby looked him up and down. While he did that, murmurs are coming up again.

"Which keeper would he go to?"

"He looked like a Runner."

"A Runner? Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"You're going nuts."

"Maybe he could be a builder?"

"With Gally? Have fun, Greenie."

"I think . . . everybody back to their jobs. Nick, no, come back, you're giving this Greenie a tour." Alby instructed the boys. Considering the fact that everybody did what he said, he must be the leader.

"Hey," the limping one said and held out a hand. "Name's Newt."

"Well, maybe you can tell me what's that here?" Percy lied.

"Hm . . . actually that happens on the tour but . . . well, that's the bloody Glade." Newt spread out his arms.

"I realized that before, thank you," Percy muttered.

"I don't know if I should tell you about . . ."

"What's outside these walls?" Percy interrupted him.

Newt looked confused. "Uh . . . aren't you sad or annoyed that you're here, Greenie?"

Percy shoot him a glare, that made Newt shiver, then sighed. "Listen, Newt, sure enough I'm . . . no, we're here for some reason. I don't wanna be here, it's . . . just a feeling, that I've done things before the Glade that are pretty much worse than how this seems. So, I want you to tell me what's this or you shut your hole and I'm going to find out alone. When I sit here and cry about the fates, that wouldn't help anyone."

Newt shook his head disbelievingly. "Whoa, you're really different than the majority of us."

"Nice. So, are you going to answer my question?"

Newt frowned. "Just an advice, don't talk to Alby like that. He wouldn't be calm like me."

"Newt."

"Outside is . . . the maze." Percy kept his unreadable face on, as Newt studied him. "Aren't you scared," the boy asked.

"Because I'm trapped into a huge maze made of stone with some other boys who obviously lived here for a long time and shudder than they mention the maze? No. My conclusion is, you didn't found an exit yet and considering that you live all here together there has to be some enemies. Am I right?"

Newts bewildered face was answer enough: he stared open-mouthed at the demigod. Percy nodded to himself - his experiences were right. There always had to be an enemy. Further it wouldn't be his live.

He sighed. "Okay, who are the enemies? Have you weapons? Can I go outside and search?"

That seemed to bring Newt back to reality. "Woah, no! Just Runners are allowed to go out into the bloody maze."

"Fine," Percy said. "When I want to be a Runner."

Newt laughed. "Yeah, right. You're really a shank. Ask me that when you had lived a month here, okay?"

Percy stared confused at the boy. "Why?"

Before Newt could answer a new boy appeared beside Percy. He grinned cheerful, almost a little crazy as if he had to much sugar interjected. The new one had curly brown hair and brown eyes, he wore a gray shirt, jeans and running shoes. A bandage was wrapped around his ankle. He reminded Percy a little bit of Leo, what made his heart a little bit lighter, but his happy mood subsided when he started to miss his friends.

"Hey, Greenie, I'm Nick," the boy said and held up a hand for a high-five. Percy took the offer and smiled at Nick.

"Percy," he said.

"Newt!" Alby shouted from the wooden building where some people are crowded. "Come on!"

Newt rolled his eyes, shoot another curious glance at Percy than limped towards his friend. Nick watched him for a second then turned back to him.

"Woah, you made really effect, when they call a gathering, Greenie. Usually that just happens when you're choosing a job or the Runners found something strange or whatever."

Percy smirked. "Maybe because I'm so unnerving good-looking, irritating awesome and somebody who you just have to love?"

Nick snorted with laughter. "Yeah, of course. Nobody is better than the Nick-man."

"I'm hurt, dude, really hurt." Percy laid his hand on his chest, right there his heart was.

Nick grinned. "You're cool, Greenie. Let's start the tour and see if you're really good enough to be a Runner."

"Oh, yeah, right. How can I become a Runner?" Percy asked.

"You're asking the right man," Nick said seriously. "I'm the keeper of the Runners."

"The keeper . . . you mean, the leader?"

The boy grimaced. "Kinda. Currently every shank is outside in the maze. I'm here because . . . well, you see, running around in the Glade when it's night isn't the best thing to do."

"Your ankle," Percy said. "It's broken."

"Yep. With the Grievers out there I'm not allowed to run the place. The Med-jackssaid, I have to stay in the Glade for at least three weeks. So I'm helping Frypan with the food or other things and Minho represent me."

"Oh," Percy said. "Sorry."

"Nah, it's fine. I mean, so I can annoy the other Gladers and I've found you, my new buddie, right?" Nick grinned and waved for him to follow.


	6. CHAPTER SIX

"You know the box. It's like an elevator but you're supposed to know that. Once a month we get a new greenbean, like you today. Once a week we get supplies - clothes, food, such things. We clear pretty good. It's a little enigma for us. We know as much as nothing about the box - where it comes from, how it gets here, who's in charge. The Creators of the Maze ain't told us nothin'."

Percy nodded. WICKED seemed not to want the kids here dead.

"The Glade is parted into four sections," Nick pointed at every area when he spoke. "Deadheads, Blood House, Gardens, Homestead. The graveyard is in this corner." Okay, scratch that. Percy followed his gaze to the dark forest. He was completely and utterly mad. These kids are supposed to live with their parents in a house and not with strangers in a maze bigger as Manhattan Island.

"The Blood House is where the Slicers work. They raise and slaughter animals. Do you like slaughtering? Then you can work there."

"Nope," Percy said. "Definitely not good for me."

Nick grinned. "Neither for me. Come on."

They walked towards the Gardens. When they came closer, Percy spotted other plants than tomatoes, corn and fruit trees. There are potato plants, carrots, herbs, berry bushes, cucumbers, peppers and strawberries. The scent of the red fruits made his heart heavy and he missed the first words from Nick.

"- Zart the Fart," the Runner said. "He came two Newbies after me. I'm one of the earlier ones - just Alby and Newt came before me." And are alive, Percy thought. Another flash of anger coursed through him.

Nick started to talk about the Gardens again, but Percys glare kept glued to the strawberries, pictures of his friends flashing through his mind. Annabeth, Grover, Jason, Piper, Frank, Hazel, Leo, the Stolls, Katie Gardner, Tyson, Ella, Jake Mason, Thalia, Nico, Reyna, his trainer Chiron, even Clarisse. Unknowingly he had walked towards the little plants and gathered one of the red berries. Tasting the sweet, delicious fruit he smiled. It was almost as good as in Camp Half-Blood.

A shadow fell over him and he looked up. A tall, black-haired kid, maybe fifteen years old, looked down a him. The kid smiled. "You like the Gardens?"

Nick behind him grinned. "Don't wanna be a runner anymore, huh?" Percy didn't smile. "What's up, Greenie?" The Runner said, frowning in concern.

Percy stood up with one last glance at the fruits. The Garden-kid looked curiously at him. "They . . . they just reminded me of . . ." He stopped, remembering his plan not to tell anybody that he could remember. Nick might be a new friend but Percy learned not to trust people so easily anyway. Nothing the fates decided for his life yet was good - except for meeting his friends and Annabeth maybe. His memories won't help anyone. "Something." He finally said. It listened lame and unlikely. Hopefully Nick and the other boy didn't become suspicious.

"Yeah?" Nick sounded curious, not suspicious. "You know of what?"

Percy pretended to think really hard. He grimaced when he remembered the time with Heras memory wipe, when he tried to remember something other than just his forename and the fact that he was a demigod.

"I can't grip the memory," he finally told his new friend. He spoke wary, as if he was in the same situation like in the middle of June. "It's frustrating. I know there is a memory behind these strawberries and that it's important for me, but it's like an invisible barrier that won't let me see it."

Nick nodded and the black-haired boy looked sympathetic. "We know," he said. "It's the same with us. For example . . . I know I love gardening but why? I dunno. There is something behind this job that made me feel . . . good. Complete. Happy. Local. It's crazy."

"And me," Nick said. "When I see the grievers and run away, I feel a little bit like laughing. As if I would just play Hide, Seek and Catch. But with who? Who is the one I remember is searching me? I literally feel like laughing when I run away."

The boy stared at Nick. "First, you wanna laugh when you run from the grievers? Not, like, scream or anything? That's . . . strange." He turned to Percy, shaking his head. "And do you know what the grievers are?"

"No," Percy shrugged. "Not exactly. I mean, I figured that there has to be an enemy, so that's what the grievers have to be. But that's all."

"Oh," Nick said. "Okay. Weird. How do you know that there is an enemy?"

Percy rolled his eyes. "There always has to be an enemy. That's life."

"He knows what life is, see, Zart?" Nick exclaimed, turning to the boy with a wide grin plastered on his face. "It has nothing to do with 'dance singing through the garden, yummy fruits, I love plants, lalala'. It's 'run from the enemies for your life and hope you don't get eaten while you search after an exit for this stupid maze'."

"I never said . . ." Zart protested, but Nick waved Percy already away. He grinned happily.

"Okay, Greenie. That were the gardens. Next stop is usually the Blood House, but I don't think you want to see Winston slaughter this nice cow that ate my last shoe."

Percy couldn't hold it anymore - he bursts out laughing. Nick joined in and soon they there snorting like the pigs this Winston guy seemed to slaughter.

"So that means . . ." Nick looked around, still snickering. "Well, I'm not in graveyard mood so you have to visit that alone sometimes. There's a gathering from some keepers so you can't go to the Homestead. I'll show you another time what's that. We sleep outside anyway. Never rains here. Never. It's mostly used by the Med-jacks. And we have the Slammer, where we put the ones who broke our Rules. But," Nick held up a finger. "Don't think, we don't have punishments a lot harder. We aren't proud of them but they're sometimes necessary."

Percy nodded and looked around. He didn't even wanted to think about it, so he just watched the people in the Glade. Some buildings were busy, some aren't. People go around and work. It was impressive. Maybe Percy had done the same, but maybe not. If Percy hadn't know about the gods and everything he had gone through he would sit around, do nothing and stare into the space hopeless.

"Yeah," Nick said suddenly. He didn't look at someone special, just around the Glade. "It has to seem weird for you. That's how it is, move on or die. Literally. We don't need lazy shanks who don't help. It's how we run this thing. We try to solve the maze for almost two years. It's really compelling to collapse. But we don't, 'cause we don't want to be idle. We want to try as long as possible."

Percy didn't say anything. He understood what Nick said, but he also saw the exhaustion in his eyes. "Have you ever tried to wait in the -"

"Wait in the box? Of course. Won't go down while someone is in."

"And go down when the box isn't -"

"Isn't up? Yep. Nasty thing. The kid who volunteered, Jeffrey, I knew him, was clean cut in half when we hauled his body up. Just the upper half, of course."

Percy felt the unbearable urge to puke. He didn't understand WICKED, they're more crucial than the gods in their worst time. These are kids from the same species! Maybe the scientists went inhuman, while they tried to make people not go inhuman.

"We should get you a place to rest," Nick finally said and looked at his wristwatch. "You have to be fresh tomorrow. Big day - try out for the first jobs and the usual eve events one day after the greenbean appearing."

"The what?" Percy asked confused and walked after his new friend. Nick shot him an amused glance and grinned. "You'll see."

Percy wanted to say something but was interrupted by an awful scratchy sound, like in the box, metal sliding against metal. He covered his ears and shoot a confused look at Nick.

The other boy shrugged. "Blast the course," he seemed to say. Percy looked even more confused.

Nick moved closer to his side and shouted "The doors! The openings to the maze are closing!" into his ears.

"Oh," Percy nodded in understanding. Then he looked confused again and Nick pointed towards the exits to the maze, rolling his eyes.

Percy turned and watched surprised how the big walls, higher than the council hall on Mount Olympus, so much higher, moved towards each other, releasing the same terrible sound like the box just much, much louder and heavier - until they slide shut and everything went quiet. So quiet that Percy thought at first, he was finally deaf.

"Come on." Percy was relieved that he could hear Nick and turned to his friend. "Let's find you a place to sleep. Now, you're really a Glader."


	7. CHAPTER SEVEN

The next day Percy woke up early in the morning. His normal routine of arising whenever he wanted to (from his time on the Argo II) was stopped when Camp Half-Blood went back to normalcy after the war. After all checking the tidiness of the cabins was a point in Camp Half-Blood normalcy. Being the hero of Olympus twice didn't save him from that and he didn't exactly wanted to show up to control in boxers (not to mention missing the breakfast in the pavillon).

It was still before dawn and Nick was sleeping next to him, his dirty white bandage bright in the darkness. Percy looked at the dark blue, shadowy sky above him and saw the stars. It was weird to know that no one but him could remember anything. Sometimes he wished he could forget some parts of his life, but neither gods nor his friends would let him do that. It was kind of sick that his fatal flaw was personal loyalty but he sometimes wanted to shove his friends away from him and be alone.

For the first time since Camp Half-Blood yesterday morning, he had the chance to think calmly and collected. His first worry was the message Thomas promised to send his family. But what if he doesn't? What if he couldn't, because the people from WICKED won't let him? The boy may be part of this organization, but they still don't want people to know about their experiments.

If his family wouldn't get the message, they would still be safe. They wouldn't travel around the world in his absence. But they would worry so much, the imagination hurt in his chest. And Annabeth . . . oh gods, his Annabeth. He promised to never leave her again but what did he do? He got kidnapped. Again.

So many demigod parents could die, just by Thomas not conveying the message. He would be so responsible of their fates. Of them becoming aliens.

Aliens. Apollo came back to his mind. The gods ascertained that aliens are attacking the earth and fight them. There would be the response why no demigods could help them - they might have powers, but they can't battle with aliens in the space where no oxygen was. Percy almost laughed humorless. His life didn't just go crazily magic, it got horrific and now they went to science fiction? Seriously?

He tried to understand the immunity about that Apollo talked. Nobody without godly blood was fully immune to the Flare. But apparently all mortals got some immunity. But that didn't make sense. That would mean the epidemic went more slowly than on other planets (crazy) and all Munies like Red Shirt in New York were demigods.

Impossible, he thought. He knew about the gods being easily attracted by mortals and that they could split their entity, but at least one fiftieth of the US American population alone had to be immune. That would mean a minimum of 6 000 000 of immune people (after being with Annabeth for so long, he was quite good at calculating). And this number dividing with maybe thousand for the gods he knew of made children, would mean 6 000 children from each god. Though he knew that gods seemed to love having one night stands or longer relationships with mortals, that number was quiet big, even for three years since Artemis' missing (when Apollo told the bomb was set).

So what's the secret behind the Immunes? Percy had the feeling it was something so simple . . . and he believed that he was way farther in studying Immunes and the Flare than anybody of WICKED. He missed Annabeth. She would probably have the answer for him. She would call him a Seaweed Brain, kiss him and tell him the answer. His head hurt and his eyes watered so he shoved the thoughts away, turning and trying to fall asleep again.

But when he couldn't do this, he stood up and walked silently towards the heavy, huge doors to the maze. They were still closed. Maybe he could stay and see how the opening and closing worked. When did the doors open anyway? He felt really stupid. Three years ago, when Annabeth and Artemis were missing, Bianca had taught him how to use the stars for orientation. After her becoming a hunter, her sense of surviving in the wilderness was sharpened.

But he never could ask her about reading the time from the stars.

Could somebody do that anyway? Or was he mistaken that with using the sun for reading the time? Ugh, he thought. To much thinking, ADHD.

He stood up und looked into the sky. The stars were always remembering him on hunters, not just Zoë in her constellation. They remembered him of Zoë, Bianca, all the dead hunters from the wars - even a little bit of Annabeth and Thalia, since they once both wanted to become hunters (he was glad Annabeth decided against it).

After all he felt so dumb. He had acted so in love with Annabeth, everybody had seen it, but himself. Even she had realized that before him. How she could be in love with him, he didn't know, but he wasn't complaining because he loved her. Not just in having a crush, or falling for her, but in actually loving her.

He had conceived in the second titan war that he would give away his life just for her being safe. He didn't regretted it. She made him strong, strong enough to fight a memory wipe from a goddess, strong enough to let go of her when he had to, strong enough to even survive Tartarus. She was his anchor to the life, even without the curse of Achilles. He would do anything for her. And maybe, just maybe, he was glad for this chance with the Maze; glad that he maybe could help establishing a cure, a cure that could save her loved ones.

Everything. Just to see her happy.

He wondered if there would someday be a time where Annabeth and him could prolong their time together. The little glimpse of their old, still new and a little awkward relationship would never come back. Their time apart, without each other, where they would still in smile embarrassed and with red cheeks when they met and/or tried to kiss - this time was taken by the gods. His long time sleep and her searching for him had deepened their feelings, had made their relationship more passionate. They now knew literally everything, whereas they talked so much about their harm and joy, hopes and worries since their reunion.

Trying to lighten up his mood and snapping out of his dark thoughts, he thought, Wow, Percy, how philosophical. Since when can you think straight about something for so long? There was it again, he changed, Annabeth changed, their feelings and relationship changed - just everything changed and nothing would ever be like before.

But that didn't mean, it couldn't become better.

He remembered the jar of Pandora, and the hope that was still safe in Hestias hands. She gave him hope now. He smiled.

Footsteps sounded behind him and he realized that the sky was colored a dark gray meanwhile. The first Gladers should wake up now - Nick had told him that the Runners are rising before dawn, before the doors opening (what should wake up the other Gladers anyway).

"You not planning on running out there, aren't you?" A deep voice asked.

"Alas I'm not allowed to." He answered, knowing that if the other one hadn't shown up, he would've gone into the Maze anyway.

It was quiet for a second. "Would that really stop ya?" His companion asked, slightly amused.

Percy focused his gaze on the other one. It was a big, very muscular boy, dark skinned and with shortcut hair. He seemed tough and ready to fight for a week, like the Hephaistos children of camp. The new boy wasn't desperately better at fighting than him, but he was a lot stronger.

"I guess not", he answered. "You kind of interrupted my planning, ya know."

"I know." He said and smiled. "I've planned interrupting you since Alby told me from your arrival, Greenie. You didn't seem like somebody who follow the rules, rather than making your own rules. That's Albys opinion, that's Newts opinion, that's my opinion - in fact, that's the opinion of the whole council."

Percy smirked. "Nice anthropology."

The other one chuckled. "I'm Minho, by the way."

"The Runner?"

"Yeah."

"The keeper till Nick is fit again?"

"Yep."

"The most annoying person in the whole Glade?"

"That's m- wait a minute, no! Nick told you that, didn't he?" Minho looked amusingly indignant.

Percy burst out laughing. Minho looked confused. "He - he didn't told me anything", Percy managed to say.

"Haha," Minho huffed, sarcasm laced in his voice. "Very funny, Greenie. Just wait. I'll get you for that."

"Yeah, I know," Percy grinned. "But for now it's great."

Minho huffed again, looking at his wristwatch (wherever he got that one). "Seriously, promise me, don't go out there for now. Just when you're allowed. The grievers are no fun."

Percy hesitated. He always tried to keep his promises if he was able to. But he didn't know if he was able to keep that one. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Minho said. "Otherwise you'll get locked into the Slammer. Ya know, when I was the Newbie, I took three paces into the Maze. Got three days in the Slammer for that - one day for each step. It's the number one rule - and there are worse punishments. Don't piss Alby off - he'll throw you out if you break his rules."

"He'll throw me out?"

"Yeah." Minho got a grim look on his face, as he faced the closed doors, drowned in his memories. "It's terrible. Ya know, nobody survived a night in the Maze?" Percy nodded. "We got the chance to a couple of times, but not 'cause we came back too late - or at least not always. The worst punishment is being barred from the Glade, just seconds before the doors are closing. Nobody survived. Grievers got them."

Percy didn't reply. A loud groan sounded from behind the wall and he heard wheels working and pulling the stone apart. Another runner joined them, casting a curious glance at them and immediately running into the big alleys of the Maze.

Minho still watched him. "You're different, Percy. I don't know how or why, but you are. But now you're one of us. You have to follow the rules. Promise?"

"Okay," Percy said finally, exhausted. "But I don't swear on the river Styx."

"The what?" Minho shot him a uncomprehending look.

Percy scolded himself and tried his best to look confused by himself. "I dunno. I don't know why I said that."

Minho nodded, more to himself as to Percy, but it still caused the demigod to relax slightly. "Like I said, you're different. Anyway, go back, Greenie, you have a rough day ahead of you. See ya tonight."

And with that the runner left him and disappeared into the maze.


	8. CHAPTER EIGHT

As he saw the demigod walking back, Nick started to grin and waved at him. "Hey, buddie! Minho got ya, didn't he?"

Percy shrugged. "Yeah. Kinda. I've thought a little, then we talked and I had to go back."

Nick patted him on the back. "Don't be silly and storm into the Maze without anything. I'll put you on the list for the try outs for the Runners and then we'll see. You have to learn a lot before going into the Maze could be allowed."

"When are the try outs?" Percy asked.

"At the end of the month. And-" Nick looked suspiciously around. "I have to show ya something."

Percy felt a pang of curiosity. The stars already began to fade and he could see the first Gladers arising and shaking the others for wake up. How they could oversleep the doors opening, was another mystery for him. "What?"

"Be quiet and follow me," Nick winked as if trying to make a joke of his weird manner. Percy couldn't help but smile about this. Nick was just like Leo after all.

They walked quietly to the western wall into the forest. He could hear the cooks clatter with pots and pans, Zart - the dark-haired boy from the Gardens - picked some fruits and vegetables up and laid them into a basket for the cooks. Alby stood and talked to Newt about something.

Peace. After all it was peaceful.

Until Nick showed him the dirty window in the wall, nodding to himself and turning to Percy with a dead serious look on his face. It didn't fit with his normal behavior, so Percys euphoria got a deep blow. The demigod frowned and took a glance out of the window.

While his eyes acclimate with the darkness, Nick whispered into his ear. "We don't show this Greenies often. But you were claiming the whole time that you wanna be a runner. Outside is the Maze. I'll show you why don't mess with it."

Percys heart skipped a beat as he could make out movement behind the window. A large thing climbed the wall opposite of him. Little lights flashed across the alley and Percy noticed spikes glistening sharply. The thing jumped and slammed against the window, allowing Percy to take a good look on him.

It was some horrible kind of monster - half animal, half machine. Slime poured out of his body, enveloping the spikes and the long metal legs. It didn't seem to have eyes, but a disgusting mouth that let out a shriek Percy fortunately couldn't hear. It was atrocious, but the look of it didn't made him step away. It was the fact that that wasn't a monster from Greek mythology (otherwise the Gladers wouldn't see them), but that humans created this thing. That they created it to terrorize other people.

To kill other people.

"Nefarious," Percy whispered, his face white with shock.

Nick looked at him, concerned. "Dude, what's up with you? Are you sick or something?"

"What?" Percy asked, frowning, feeling the dread increasing, he had done something wrong.

Nick backed one step away, shaking his head. "You see a Griever and all you say is 'Nefarious'? You cannot be human." Percy gulped. His friend was right. He wasn't exactly fully human. He was half god, half human. And that means he had to deal with way more terrible things, thus he wasn't that scared of the Grievers. He had seen death and though he didn't want to die, it didn't scared him as much as the Gladers.

"S-sorry," he stammered and tried to think of a reasonable answer. He was relieved when he got one - he already hated lying to Nick after not even a full day. "I . . . just figured, you wouldn't bring me somewhere dangerous. Maybe it was a shock rigidity."

"Maybe." For the first time Nick didn't laugh, but eyed him suspiciously. Percy understood him. There were happening so many weird things about this new kid, mostly about not being really scared of anything here. He could bring up yet so many great explanations - if he couldn't start acting like a normal person, like another Glader, he would most likely never be a runner, nor be trusted by them. They would probably send him into the Maze as punishment, like Minho said, even if he would probably survive the Grievers, he would never be able to survive without food.

He felt frustrated. Almost more frustrated than during the call with Annabeth. His gut clenched. For once again, it wasn't because he was starving. His senses were tingling. The strain in the last months came up again, bringing his powers with it. He felt every single water pipeline in the whole construction like a line made of fire on his body. His brain was willing to give up, let go of his composure, let the whole thing blow up.

He tried it hard. Dropping to his knees, holding his stomach, he searched in his mind for another thing to let it all out. His mind had built a map of all water points within a perimeter of five kilometers. It were mostly the pipelines, then on the outer area happened to be some occasional points and then there was nothing. Nothing at all.

He shouldn't blast the Maze. He would kill himself, the Gladers and probably entire WICKED (though he wouldn't complain too much about the latter). But they were still humans.

He was no killer. Or was he? No. But what if he was, but wouldn't confess it? Did he kill people in his past? Kinda. Bianca. Zoë. Lee Fletcher. Castor. Beckendorf. Micheal Yew. Silena. Ethan. Luke. Countless others in the wars and probably the explosion of the ship. He was a killer. He saw them die and did nothing. He saw what the gods had made of him. He killed nonstop, Hades, he didn't even realized he had killed so many. He was a monster, just like the ones he used to kill.

He felt it coming.

Monster.

His stomach felt like a crumpled paper, just much, much heavier.

You killed them.

He heard a loud groan inside his head. Or was it real? He couldn't tell.

Your fault.

He let out a muffled noise, a suppressed scream to hold on, or to stop, or to let go, or just guilt. He felt so, so guilty.

It's okay. Was that real? He couldn't open his eyes, but he felt comforted by the words. Not because of the words themselves, but of the person who said them. It's not your fault, Percy, Annabeth spoke again. Their choice. They choose to die therewith you can live. Therewith we can live.

Yeah, Percy remembered this conversation. Three days after the end of the second titan war, three days after them starting their relationship with the (really amazing) underwater kiss, three days after Luke's sacrifice to save them. Three days, and then his joy started to fade, he started to think and to blame himself. He started to regret. But I could've done something . . . fight better, be stronger, save them . . .

His anger faded slowly. His gut unclenched. He remembered every feature of her; golden hair like Cinderella, gray, calculating, wise eyes, every single shade of them more beautiful than anything. Her face inside his mind was so clear and happy, so near, he tried to smile, though it just emerged as a grimace.

The Son of Poseidon searched again and found where his power was directed to. A little lake, just a few square meters big, boiling like hot water, steam rising like mist into the air, waves crashing onto the forest ground. WICKED would have difficulty to find the reason for that.

He didn't care.

Percy opened his eyes. Annabeth was there, sitting on his bed in the Poseidon cabin. She looked at him lovingly, understanding, soft, and he felt instantly better. She was like that. Usually she wouldn't look at people in this way. Most of the demigods couldn't see why Percy or Thalia or anybody liked her that much. Sure, she was a leader, clever and kind of stunning in a fierce way (Percy could totally not agree with that - she was more than just kind of stunning). He knew that she seemed unkind sometimes - hard, impenetrable, without another mode than rationality.

But she was like this just because she had a hard life. She was wary, distrusted the people who tried to be her friends. It was comprehensible. First, her mother Athena abandoned her; she was a goddess but still, that was nothing a child wanted to know. Then, her father tried to forget about her, started a new life with a new family, treated her as mistake. After she became a runaway and found a new family, one of the members died. The other member betrayed her. She lost her family two times - it was no miracle that she didn't wanted to trust somebody.

But Percy got into her heart. He was proud of it and he didn't planned on letting go of this opportunity.

She smiled at him. Stood up, pulled him with her. Put her arms around his neck, tilted her head up to look him straight into the eyes, holding her mouth so close to his, Percy had troubles in keeping up with her words.

"You are strong, Percy. You're a hero. They were heroes. You fight for the good. They fought for the good. It's not your fault."

"Annabeth . . ." His hands had reached for her thighs without him noticing and he squeezed them. "I'm no hero . . ."

"Shh." She took a hand from his neck and put a finger on his lips. "You are a hero. Say nothing against it." His lips tingled. He wanted to kiss her so badly. His grip tightened and she somehow came nearer to his face. Maybe he didn't noticed that he hoisted her up, maybe she stood on her tiptoes, maybe both. Annabeth opened her mouth and as she spoke, her warm breath tickled his skin. "I won't let you."

She wanted to close the gap between their lips but Percy retained her on her waist. "Annabeth," he said. His eyes were hard and determined. She backed a few centimeters away and looked at him, biting her lip, unsure what was wrong. Wasn't he ready yet? Was she too fast?

The girl had to confess that she was going fast sometimes. She promised to go slow, to enjoy everything. But she had to wait so long to be with this idiot, had to see so long how he approached Rachel, had to bear his blindness for so long. She wouldn't wait anymore for him, she wanted to kiss him, hug him, touch him and love him not just from the distance. She wanted to be loved by him, be kissed, hugged and touched by him. What if she did something wrong? Or, a more awful thought, if he wanted to stop because he didn't loved her? Or what if-

"Annabeth Chase, I freaking love you." He cupped her face with his from the sword fighting abrasive and intense hands and stared straight into her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as he said that, as he did that and as she got lost in the swirling ocean eyes once again.

And then their lips touched.


	9. CHAPTER NINE

Thomas was greeted by the words: "What the hell?" Well, he wasn't exactly greeted, because they all didn't knew he was there, but still.

Thomas hadn't much to do during the night. Or after the newest subject arrived in the Glade. Or while something important was happening. Actually he never had much to do.

The new chancellor, Ava Paige, was kind of nice, but also in love with WICKED. The sentence she must've said most in her life was: "WICKED is good." But he trusted her somehow. He liked her. She was like a not-so-personal grandmother for him, who wouldn't accept she was powerless, could do nothing against the Flare. She was, like, the Big Boss.

And than there was Janson. He was the director of the Subject Commission. And Thomas hated that guy.

Thomas didn't even know how this hatred started. Years ago, as Teresa, Aris, Rachel and him instructed the new scientists of WICKED to the whole plan, he was like: These are kids! We shouldn't listen to them! They probably stole the plan from the old scientists and now they wanna play important. It was so stupid. The whole plan included the four Immunes being sent to the Mazes, without memories, doing nearly impossible and awful things. If they would've had the choice, they would've stopped this all and opened the doors to the two Mazes, helped their old friends out and hadn't instructed them. But Thomas knew what the Flare could do to humans, better than anyone, and he couldn't destroy the only hope the human race had.

But Janson wouldn't hear, and some people followed his opinion. Anyway, even Ms Paige found this theory illogical. But she still didn't can him.

But now he had an assignment.

Thomas looked into the big room full of screens. Four scientists stood around, partly watching the Gladers through beetle blades, partly navigating the Grievers (some critters he despised), partly writing down new information and leading every thought of the kids inside Maze One. Everybody wore lab gowns (something Thomas stopped long ago).

The man who had been exclaiming this, stared disbelievingly at one of the screens, his fingers hung over a keypad. On the screen before him kneeled a dark-haired person on the ground, eyed squeezed shut, hands pressed onto his stomach. Thomas recognized him as Percy Jackson - they guy, who was sent away yesterday, who had given him an impossible task, who was his task.

Percys mouth was open, not in the way somebody would scream, more like he moaned as if he had the gripes. Thomas couldn't here anything, mostly because WICKED turned the sound off during the work. They turned it on in only two cases: something important was happening or someone important called them over HoloConnect.

Now, they turned it on.

"Percy!" somebody shouted.

Another person Thomas knew long ago, Nick, bended over the new Glader, his face white with shock. Percy didn't respond. He moaned, sweat exuded over his face. "No," he gasped. "Could've . . . done something."

"Percy!" Nick shook his shoulders. "What's up? Are you okay? What are you buggin' talking about?" Percy still didn't respond, he just groaned.

"What's going on?" A woman asked the scientist. "That's not supposed to happen!"

"I don't know, Jasmine!" The scientist said and typed onto the keypad furiously. "We've been checking him longer than the others, that he doesn't has some unfavorable diseases. Just ADHD and dyslexia. He was almost more perfect than the others. Repulsive against the Flare, not just safe from it. I don't know why . . ."

"Holy mother Maria!" Another scientist screamed. "The water is boiling!"

Everybody stopped and turned to him confused. Thomas couldn't believe what he heard. The water was boiling? Why would that happen? And how?

"What?" Jasmine asked.

"There!" The man pointed agitated at the screen right before him. Thomas looked more intense at it. It showed just a little puddle in the forest in the Glade, nobody was there, but the water was actually boiling like in a kettle. It was so elusive.

"What is happening here?" Jasmine asked disbelievingly.

"The water in Maze Two is boiling too," the third man said. "The girls are really confused. Harriet just told them to ignore it. They seem to believe that we were that."

"Are we?" Jasmine demanded.

Silence. Thomas' heart pounded. He shouldn't hear that. He shouldn't know about this. He should go away and sleep. But he couldn't. He had to listen.

"How should we make a puddle boiling?" the first man finally said. "Is it possible that . . . Jackson caused this?"

"It seems like this," the second man said. "But it isn't possible. If we can't make that puddle boil, why should he? He's a kid after all. No superhero or something."

"Maybe a heat conduction in the ground broke?" the last one said faltering.

Jasmine nodded slowly. "That's the only possible solution. Please check this, Morris."

"And what's with Jackson?" the first one said. Jasmine watched some Gladers carrying the boy away. They all looked confused and the Med-jacks looked worried at each other. Alby stood with Newt and Nick and they talked, but since the scientists turned the sound off again, Thomas didn't understand about what.

"We'll see," Jasmine said. "Maybe it was just too much for him. That happens sometimes."

"But what if . . ."

"I'll tell Paige about it, she'll decide," Jasmine cut him of. She turned and started a call over HoloConnect. Thomas decided it was time to reverse before they'll order Janson to them. That would be his death.

The boy sneaked through the corridors he knew longer than anyone of the scientists here, but he had to be quiet. Janson didn't. And that's why he stood suddenly ahead of him. The eyes of the man got a starving sparkle and he grinned nasty.

"Oh, Thomas, what a nice surprise," he said. "Why aren't you in your dorms?"

"Uh," Thomas shifted on his feet nervously. "I . . . uh, had to use the toilet."

"Last time I checked it was just a few doors away from you," he sneered evil. "Definitely not here."

Thomas' face froze into a calm expression of hatred. "Yeah, I just realized this. Thank you. It was really dark. I wish you a good night, Sir."

He walked past the man and felt his gaze on his back. Before he could turn around a corner and escape this glare, Janson called him back. Thomas gritted his teeth and turned with a forced smile on his face. "Yes, Sir?"

"Don't forget, Thomas, I'm going to control everything coming to you in the next months. I can make you die within a second."

"I know, Sir," Thomas said, turned and walked away. As soon as he reached his dorms and opened the door, Aris looked up from his bed and the book he'd been reading. "Are you okay?"

Thomas let out a hard breath. "Janson got me."

"Oh," Aris looked sympathetic. "The 'I can let you die'-speech again?"

"Yes."

"Well, you shouldn't provoke him that often." Aris shrugged and reclined his book next to him. "Found something interesting?"

Thomas nodded and sat down on his own bed. "Jackson collapsed in his Maze and the water was boiling."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard right. The water was boiling," Thomas said. "In both Mazes. The girls thought it was WICKED, the guys didn't even noticed it with all the excitement around Percy."

"But why the hell -"

"Dunno. They didn't believed it, but they said it was a broken heat conduction in the ground."

"We have heat conductions in the Mazes?"

"Apparently."

"That doesn't make sense." Aris stated.

"I know. Why should we have heat conductions there? It doesn't snow, since it's in the ground, and it's warm enough."

"Crazy," Aris said. "Maybe they'll tell us something tomorrow."

Thomas laid down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He should think about his task again. But for now he was tired. "Do you really believe that?" he still asked.

Silence. Thomas' eyes closed and his breathing became evenly. His mind was about to drift off when he heard Aris answer.

"No."


	10. CHAPTER TEN

Percy opened his eyes. His whole body ached as if he had been wrestling monsters over and over again. Even his eyelids wanted to close themselves again, but he didn't allowed them that. With a stifled groan, he hoisted himself up on his elbows and looked around, ignoring the flashs of white light that crossed before his eyes.

A bang sounded like a door had been smacked shut. As his sight was finally normal, he spotted another guy standing around, washing hands in a bucket and casting side glances at Percy. The demigod swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Who are you?" He asked and held his head in his hands. Was the world spinning? Should it spin?

The boy looked around in the little room, his blue eyes seemed to search something. Apparently they found what he was searching and he turned.

"My name is Austin," he said. "Please wait a second and I'll go get some nectar."

"What?" Percy stared at him. That wasn't possible, was it? "You're . . ."

"Yeah," Austin said. He rummaged through some bags in the back of the room and looked at him smiling. "I'm one. And you're too, obviously. I can't believe they let you come up with this shirt."

Percy stared dumbfounded at the other one swinging a bottle of golden drink in his hands. "What . . . what are you doing?"

"Nectar isn't just useful for being strong, it does help stimulate the immune system. But you have to drink it clearly for that. If you're shaking it, the ingredients mix and they'll suppress your demigod senses better," Austin said. "It will only help for a few days and you shouldn't do this often, but it'll help you accustom with the Glade. Here, just a little swallow please, we have to be sparingly."

Percy nodded, eyed the milky amber liquid wary but decided to trust Austin. If he couldn't trust him, he couldn't trust anybody. The warm feeling he got washed all the pain away and for the first time for long he felt possible to blanket his powers.

"Thanks," he said relieved. "How did you know that?"

"Son of Apollo," Austin explained. "A year or so before the second Titan war, he gave me a book about remedies for demigods. It was useful and I decided to have nectar and ambrosia with me all the time, and since I was going to fight in a war, it was just helpful."

"How did you get here?"

"After the Titan war, when I was right before my apartment these WICKED guys appeared and kidnapped me. They shot with some electricity weapon and I knocked out." Austin put the bottle back into one of the bags, looking around again. "But I could've ask you the same. Never thought I was going to meet the famous defeater of Kronos and Son of Poseidon this way."

"You know me?" Percy asked. He wasn't really that surprised, of course Austin had to know him, he had lead him into a war. He hated the title 'defeater of Kronos', since it was actually Luke who defeated him, but the gods won't hear, neither do the Campers. After a while, he just gave up.

"Really? Who doesn't? You and Annabeth are like the first thing, a new Camper would learn about. I mean, you look different but still."

"Great." Percy groaned and put his head into his hands.

"So, how did you come here?" Austin asked, peeking out of the window while he sat down.

"Got kidnapped, just like you," Percy said. "Left Camp after the war against Gaea, then . . ."

"War?" Austin interrupted with wide eyes. "Again? You serious?"

"Yeah, not really nice, I know," Percy shrugged. "Ya know, I got kidnapped from Hera in the winter after the Titan war and she let me sleep for literally months. After that, no memories. Great."

"So you were just like these guys out there," Austin chuckled.

Percy smirked. "Yeah. It wasn't funny, but still . . . I found some Roman demi-"

"Shh," Austin put a hand on his mouth and shook his head. "Watching us. Beetle blades. You collapsing caught their attention." Percy cast a glance to where Austin was looking at and found a little beetle made of metal, red lights flashing where they went because of the red written word WICKED on their bodies. Just like Leo would have done it. "Act as if ya just collapsed 'cause it was too much," Austin whispered without moving his lips, so quiet Percy could barely hear it.

"What happened to you?" Austin asked loud and stood up. He took a cup and scooped some water out of another bucket. "Here."

Percy took it and emptied it with one swallow."Thanks. I don't know . . . I guess, it was just too much in this short period. How long I've been out?"

"Just a couple of hours," Austin answered, sorting some injections with a strange, dark blue liquid. "Clint is getting Alby, Newt et cetera."

"Nick?"

"Him too, yeah. I mean, he was with you when you blacked out." Austin shrugged, as if he didn't care about this, but Percy could see concern behind his eyes, where he was used to see concern in people.

Percy peered to the window, but the metal beetle was still there. He had to play this game harder. "Why do I just remember my first name? What's with my life before here? Where are my memories?"

Austin looked impressed. "We just know, what we figured out. And we are almost one hundred percent sure that the Creators of the Maze had sent us here, had taken our memories, had given us the task to solve the Maze." Percy nodded, so Austin would know, he got the message: Never say WICKED here, just Creators.

"What's your name anyway?" Percy asked, peering to the beetle again. It hadn't moved.

"I'm Austin, Keeper of the Med-jacks," Austin introduced himself patiently. Percy nodded. What should they talk about now? Fortunately, he hadn't to act like nothing because the beetle turned on the windowsill and crawled away.

"Thank the gods," Percy breathed. "I don't think I could've done this much longer."

Austin smirked. "It has his advantages being the son of the god of theater."

"Always thought that was Zeus," Percy said. "But you're definitely right. No stupid quests, not so many life-threatening situations and no reason to be the leader of Camp in two wars."

Austin laughed. It made Percy feel a little better, made his heart warm. These kids couldn't have much funny things happening, it was good that some people try to lighten up their mood. They were kids after all and they had the right to live. Though the second part was more bitter than funny, but still.

But before Austin could say something again, the door slammed open. Alby trudged in, a grim expression on his face, him following Newt, Nick and some other Gladers. Austin looked at Percy as if to say: Let me handle this. Percy doubted, Alby would be pleased with the support from the demigod.

"Alby," Austin said. "He woke up just a few -"

"Hush!" Alby said angrily. "I'm coming because of him."

"But -"

"I said Shut your hole!" Alby roared. Austin hushed and looked at Percy apologetically. Percy shrugged. "What?" the demigod asked.

Alby was suddenly very near. His nose almost touched Percys, his eyes full of anger, his fingers seized around his collar. "What is different with you? Tell us now!"

Percy switched into fighting mood without him wanting, his eyes calmed, his muscles relaxed and he freed himself with a quick, easy motion of his right arm. Alby stumbled a few steps back, but regained his balance. The other Gladers scattered around him, looking slightly nervous, excited and predominantly emotionless. Newt stood in the back watching, like he didn't really care. Nick was awkwardly in the foreground, but he didn't seem to embrace a party. Austin was next to him, firmly.

"Percy," Nick said anxious. "Just tell us."

The demigod stood up, crossed his arms and glared at them. "What should I tell you? How I came up with no memories? How you're all acting like weirdos for me? How you," Percy pointed at Nick, "showed me the the Grievers and told me I was crazy when I said, they were nefarious?" Austin let out a small groan and as the demigod glanced at him, he saw the other boys hand twitching as if he wanted to slap himself.

The other boys moved. "Alby," a dark skinned, big guy with a white cookers hat on his head said hesitating. "Are you sure . . ."

"Yes!" Alby said angrily. "Look at the shank! He knows something. Tell us!"

"What, Alby!" Percy shouted. "What do you want to hear from me? What did I do? I know nothing about the Glade!"

Alby looked mad. Very mad. For some reason, Percy got goosebumps on his arms as Alby slowly backed off and crossed his arms. "Last chance," the boy said. "You sure you know nothing?"

Percy huffed. "Yeah."

"If I'm going to find out," Alby started quietly. "If I'm going to find out that you know something, you'll be dead."

Percy didn't dare to glare back. For some reason, his arms fell to his sides and he dropped his gaze. His mind worked, but had nothing to do with his actions. His mouth spoke without him wanting. "Then it's good, I don't know something."

Alby glared one last time, before he turned and dashed out of the room, the Gladers following slowly. Nick disappeared with an abashed "I'll wait outside for you."

Percy said nothing. Just when the last Glader left the room, he could suddenly speak again. He turned to Austin and went with a sarcastic "That went great."

Austin shrugged. "I told you," he said. "The nectar works."


	11. CHAPTER ELEVEN

Percy was just one inch away from drawing Riptide.

The first try out, Nick would have showed him, would be the Slicers work. After the demigod told him off of his apologizing, Nick was super relived and said that he didn't had to work with Winston. Since it was almost midday then and he would've been going to change the try out, it wouldn't matter anyway.

So he went straight to the next try out, something the Gladers suggested when he came up with the box. Builder. With this Gally guy.

The boy was completely disgusting. He had black, greasy hair and a weird face. His eyes were light blue and always pinched together, like that was innate. His nose was big, flat like a pancake and red from his acne covering every free place in his face. His ears were huge. His mouth was the only thing that looked okay.

But Gally was strong. He lifted some wood for the addition of the Homestead without much problems. The other Builders followed his lead. And when Gally saw Percys face, he snickered. "Come on, Greenie, your turn." The demigod immediately disliked this guy. What if he wouldn't have been strong enough? Would he laughed his butt off?

Percy raised the wood with a grimace and followed them. He might be strong, but that was because he fought so much in the last years. Hoisting wood and building cabins wasn't exactly his specialty.

While they held the wood in the right place, another Glader fixed the planks with ropes and spikes. Gally kept telling him to hold the board different, but didn't seem to find a good position. So now, he was there. And wished his hands wouldn't be glued to the planks for not letting it fall, so he could draw his sword.

"More forwards, Greenie, you let it fall to the ground," Gallys scratchy, headache producing voice said. Percy followed his order and was glad, that supper would start soon.

"No, no, that was too wide. Back."

"Goddamn, Percy, don't be so silly. Just hold it like we do."

"No, you still have to make the corner! Slinthead."

When Nick finally came back, Percy was already fully exhausted. Gally undertook his third board, so that they could go (and the Builders could finish the walls of this building). Once he sat down, Percys arms built a pillow and his head sank down.

Nick appeared again with some food and Percy took the opportunity to lift his energy level again. While he was gobbling his food, Nick watched him amused and ate his own plate slower. Some other boys joined them chatting, but Percy was too focused on his food to listen to them.

"You home, Greenie?" Nick waved a hand in front of him and grinned at his confused expression.

"What?" Percy asked as good as possible while trying to hold his food back in his mouth. The few people around them laughed. Percy recognized Newt rolling his eyes, Zart laughing loudly and Austin smirking, obviously aware of his eating habits back at camp. Percy stuck his tongue out at him, what lead to him somehow losing the bread in his mouth and more snickering from the Gladers.

"Newt asked you something," Austin said.

"He did?" Percy mumbled, already trying to speak and eat his food at the same time again.

"Yeah, I did so, thanks for ignoring me," Newt said sarcastically. "I asked how bad your day with Gally was."

Percy stopped baffled for a moment, then shrugged and swallowed his meat. "Awful. It was like that's wrong the whole time."

"And that was awful?" Austin said chuckling. "I made at least three planks break and one landing on me, when I got here. That was when I lost the last self confidence I had."

Zart snorted. "Not possible with your current behavior."

Percy sucked in his breath and started coughing, laughing wildly. Austin pouted. Zart grinned at him.

"Hey," Nick said. "Not everyone can be as amazing as the Nick-man."

"True," Percy admitted. "And especially not as amazing as me."

"Ya know, your nickname was -" Austin stopped right in his shot back and looked appalled. "Uh . . ."

"I know that you called me doofus, Austin," Percy cut in hastily. He had to say, the nectar was a miracle worker.

"Why did he do that?" Zart asked interested.

Percy huffed, but secretly patted his shoulder. "Right after I saw him first, I called him a -"

"Don't you dare say that again!" Austin interrupted him, looking indignant.

"Then stop the doofus thing, doofus," Percy said grinning.

Austin pouted. "Okay. But you know, you guys are unbearable."

Newt held out a finger to stop anybody from commenting that. The Gladers looked at him quizzically. A smirk showed itself on his face and he said after the dramatic pause, "Exactly my point."

Though he insulted everybody on the table, they all started laughing. And for once Percy didn't miss his old friends. He would never dump them, but laughing with friends was something, he couldn't do for a long time. If it helped that they didn't know his past, that was maybe a reason to be happy for being here.

And it felt mighty good.

But Annabeth would outweigh the worlds paradise.

"So," Nick said, pointing proudly at the large bonfire thirty feet away from the Box. "Welcome to the eve events. For tonight you're our guest in honour."

Percy still pondered if he found this good. The boys from the Glade drank strange, orange, clear liquid and roared in joy. The fire was big, almost three feet higher than the demigod, and he already was 6'1. It flared higher every time they threw a straw puppet with a vaguely human shape into it. The Gladers always yelled, "DEATH THE CREATORS!" or "WE'LL GET YOU!" or "REVENGE!". It was as if they'd gone finally crazy. Even calm Zart and Newt were jeering all along.

"Nick!" The guy from the morning, Minho the Runner, called out to his friend. As he reached them, the boy handed them a flask with the strange drink. "Nothing found today," he said.

"Well, nothing I didn't expect." Nick grinned and swallowed without hesitating before handing Percy the flask. "Take a slug," Nick said happily. "You'll feel better."

Percy eyed the liquor uncertainly. He could sense a big amount of alcohol in this drink and he never had alcohol before. He learned to hate that kind of things when he lived with Smelly Gabe. Crazy, though. He thought, the most kids got attracted to drugs when they grown-up with them.

"Come on," Nick encouraged him. "You'll not die from it. And if you do, well, it's a better death than getting caught by grievers."

Percy ignored his inner refusal and trusted the boy enough to sip on it. As soon as the liquor touched his tongue, he gagged and spit everything out. "Yukky," he announced grimacing. "Never make me drink this again." He couldn't see how some people could be addicted to this kind of stuff. It tasted awful.

Nick shrugged and took the flask again. Minho chuckled and said, "We don't even know what it is. Gally made it."

"That explains a lot," Percy said still spitting.

"You'll meet him later," Nick said taking another slug. "And Alby and Minho. You have to make a good impression then. They'll fight hand to hand combat with you."

It took a second for Percy to understand these words. "No," he said fiercely and stopped the spitting. "I'm not going to fight for entertainment."

"Entertainment?" Minho asked, looking amused but also angry. "Thank you a lot. That's no entertainment, it's serious. We'll see one side of you - and it'll decide if you can participate in the Runner tryouts."

"Why should I fight you?" Percy said stubbornly. "Or Alby or Gally? We don't like each other, so why?"

"Alby isn't that bad," Minho stated, taking another sip. "He's just concerned. He's one of longest who lived here, he knows what happens outside when you're not ready. He was one of the boys who made the rules. They decide our fate, remember that, Greenie. Never break them, be normal, and you two will be good."

"Thank you very much," Percy muttered. "But what exactly is normal?"

"You'll learn, Percy," Minho said. "You'll learn."

"Oh, shut up, shank," Nick said and bumped Minho. "You're making it sound worse than it is."

Minho grinned and swallowed again. Nick rolled his eyes, took another sip by himself and led Percy towards the bonfire. "Don't expect me to spare you," Minho shouted laughing.

"Forget that slinthead," Nick told him and smiled. "You'll beat him or I beat you."

Percy had to say, he dreaded the same.


End file.
